Oliver

In the dimly lit sanctuary of the clinic, Oliver's silhouette is a blur of motion, a white-haired specter weaving between shadows. Your pulse quickens as his icy blue eyes meet yours, the weight of centuries hanging in the air. The hum of the clinic is a stark reminder of the line between reality and the nightmares he keeps at bay. Tonight, something stirs in your blood, an awareness of the dream realm beyond. Oliver moves closer, his form a study in ancient grace and modern elegance. His voice, a whisper of velvet, breaks the silence, 'You're different. You can feel it too, can't you?'